


Royally Fucked

by Morgana



Series: Spike's Seven Deadly Sins [7]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-27
Updated: 2011-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike wasn't trying to unleash monsters with those eggs; he just wasn't thinking</p>
            </blockquote>





	Royally Fucked

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 7_deadly_sins challenge at LJ - Pride

Spike kicked a charred piece of wood aside, raking a hand through his hair as he surveyed the wreckage of his home. Fucking Finn with his fucking bomb, charging in where he didn't belong just so he could play GI Joe and show off for the Slayer. One more thing to hold against him, another on a very long list. But honestly, Spike knew he'd been taking a risk when he agreed to hold the eggs, but he hadn't been able to turn it down. The money was just too good to say no, and now he was royally fucked.

It was his own fault, really. He should've known better than to think he could swoop in and save the day like he was some big hero. He was just so sick of having to stand by and watch Buffy struggle all alone with the burdens that had been laid on her shoulders - taking care of Dawn, supporting her friends, patrolling every night, and now working a menial job for slave wages. The chance to make things just a little easier for her had seemed like a godsend, and he'd leapt at it.

And just like always, he'd fucked it up. He hadn't stopped to think about what kind of setup he needed, or any special care the eggs might require, hadn't bothered to even consider that anyone might be looking for them, so he really shouldn't be surprised that yet another one of his plans had gone tits up. Seemed like that was his lot in life, that everything he set out to do failed, leaving him standing amid the wreckage of his plans, a victim of his own arrogance.

 _Pride goeth before a fall_. Mother had been fond of that one, and Spike realized now that he really should've listened to her. But he'd let himself get sucked into a false sense of competence, told himself that he could be the one to make things better, and now here he was, with burnt pieces of wood that used to be his bed as his only prize. He supposed it served him right, that he was reaping what he'd sown, but dammit, that had been his _home_ the do-gooders had blown up and then walked away from! Sure, it might have been a hole in the wall, but he'd done his best to make habitable, put down rugs, bought sheets and even a mirror, doing what he could to make the Slayer comfortable. He must've been out of his mind, thinking she'd stay longer if he did it, and now he felt like the world's biggest idiot - he'd tried to make a sodding crypt _cozy_ , for Chrissake!

And all for nothing, now. He'd lost what little furniture he'd managed to scrounge up over the past two years, cast himself out of the Slayer's good graces, and proven himself to be a colossal failure, all because he hadn't bothered to refrigerate the sodding eggs. Spike shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a twisted lump of metal against the wall, telling himself yet again that he really was royally fucked, this time...


End file.
